


The View From Here

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair looks at Jim. And thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The View From Here

## The View From Here

#### by T.Verano

Author's website: <http://home.earthlink.net/~t.verano/index.htm>  
  
  
Season One, before The Debt  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

He sat cross-legged on the loveseat, sneakers off - Jim really needed to get a life - with a beer on the coffee table in front of him and a notebook on his right thigh and the laptop humming quietly on the cushion beside him. There were plenty of notes he still needed to be writing; but when he looked up, fumbling for the beer, he saw that Jim had gone out onto the balcony and was standing there looking out over the city. 

Great view. 

Not - _fuck_ \- that Blair could do anything about it. 

_Fuck._ New game. _Way_ new rules. 

_Research subject._ There were definite rules about _that._ It would be as bad, in some ways, as hitting on a student. 

Which he did _not_ do, ever. 

Besides, _cop_ alone would push the envelope. _Can you say stupid, Sandburg?_ Rules - crap, you were talking unwritten _laws._ On both sides of the line. Very not smart to listen to the inner voice that got off on whispering shit like, _'Hey, I'm a law. Break me.'_

But man, civil disobedience had never sounded so _sweet._ There couldn't be anything on this _planet_ hotter than handcuffs and growled Miranda rights and saving the world. _Jesus._

...and just not _happening._

Jim was wearing one of those t-shirts again. Blair shifted on the couch, pondering the advisability of switching from the notebook to the laptop, strategically placed. Not that Jim didn't already _know_ or anything. This past couple of weeks there had been a few too many involuntary physiological responses - some of which would have been obvious even to any average non-genetically-advantaged schmo on the street - for _Jim_ not to already know. 

So Jim was saying 'no.' Because he _knew,_ and he wasn't saying anything. 

So, 'no.' 

_Fuck._

Which solved the research subject problem, sure. And the cop issue. Not that the cop issue was _really_ an issue. For _him._ Except in a - _hot_ \- 'playing-with-fire' kind of way. But for Jim - 

  * _if_ Jim even... 



Yeah, fuck. 

Yeah. _He's probably thinking 'Holy-Grail-groupie,' like it's all about the research, like I'd be taking notes, borrowing the video camera again. If_ Jim even - 

Man, _video_ \- 

... _yeaahhh._ Video. 

Blair shifted on the couch. Again. 

Okay, so it wasn't such a bad thing that his mondo-baggy jeans were the only clean pair he'd had left this morning. Really. If he was going to be working with Jim for long, he really shouldn't go the whole skintight-jeans route too often unless he wanted to hurt himself. 

Not like even his tightest jeans had caused Jim to bite, anyway. 

So. There was Jim, standing out on the balcony, watching over his city, like a freaking Sentinel _ought_ to be watching. Looking like a Sentinel ought to look. Like Jim looked. 

And here _he_ was, sitting on this perfectly serviceable piece of furniture, up-close and personal with an exclusively - and not in the best sense - digital piece of equipment, following a bunch of lousy rules. His own lousy rules. And Jim's. 

Yeah. _Fuck._

* * *

End 

The View From Here by T.Verano: t.verano@earthlink.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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